


Chemical Worker

by Artemis_Crimson



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Body Horror, Gen, Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 02:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13649613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Crimson/pseuds/Artemis_Crimson
Summary: In which something is corroded





	Chemical Worker

Ripley's shots are what really set it off though it had truly started in Whitestone.

When Percy had lit up with hellfire fury he'd never exactly gone out. Smoke curled out in wispy stands from his hair and after a particularly hard fight he coughed up black goo. It was unnerving but ultimately harmless they decided. At least until the next time he was hurt. The sword wound looked like an ordinary cut but then when Pike came by to heal it wouldn't. The blood scabbed black, the scar was pearly-grey and it was sticky to touch. These new marks kept building up on their adventures, unlike Percy's old scars (raised gnarled white tissue, spreading beyond the wound) these one's where sunken and gaunt.

Then he was mad. It was perfectly reasonable angry, being backstabbed inflames even the most kind of men (he wasn't kind). His scars started to weep black liquid that boiled to steam on impact. Percy hadn't shot them. Just cracked them over the head with the butt of Retort, sinking it a fair way into their skull, splattering his sneer with viscera and bone. The next time he was injured his blood looked like red oil. Then came Ripley with her quick remarks and quicker draw.

 _ **BANG BANG**_ , gunslinger felled by his own weapon, great plumes of smoke rose from each wound. They brought him back of course, they took revenge on her and then they saved him (Ripley's blood dried brilliant red and slick, clinging to their weapons) but the brought him back. Vex kissed him, slammed his soul back home lungs filling the cavern of ribs like the bellows of his furnace. For a moment he was heartbreakingly human then- then his skin shattered.

Lichtenberg fractures spiralling out of the points of impact in the grey lines, they filled with tiny amounts of the same black ooze as his scars, bullet wounds like animal eyes peering out of his body. From there onwards every bit of anger, every snapped word, each bullet fired back at a foe ate away at him.

Ate away at his legs so they bent backwards, his face until he never took his mask off, it fusing to his skull, mortality carved away until he looked like the demon he’d made a deal with so long ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Birds don't actually have legs that bend backwards


End file.
